


Stardust

by inkfiction



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Archiving previous works, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2019-02-08 02:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12855063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkfiction/pseuds/inkfiction
Summary: The Doctor remembers Astrid on Christmas Eve.





	Stardust

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2012. My first ever Doctor Who fic, based on Voyage of the Damned. It was quite an emotional episode and I’m not ashamed to admit that I shed tears at the ending. For once I really, really wanted Astrid Peth to come back. Although that’s mainly because I have a soft spot for Kylie Minogue, I’ve adored her since I was a kid and she was singing about 'heads and things you can’t get out of them’. Minor edits.

Far away, almost at the edge of the universe there is a planet. A mere crag of a thing, made up in its entirety of barren grey rocks and hills, yet somehow enough to support a basic life form on its surface: random growths of stubby, brambley little plants and deep-blue veined, stunted shrubs. It’s so small and so mediocre that it doesn’t even have a name. It has just always existed, keeps on existing, through time wars and inter-galactic struggles, and trans-planetary warfare and whatnot. It is here that he comes once in a while, on Christmas Eve, if he’s not too busy saving the world or protecting the universe.

He sits on a pebbly little promontory which rises defiantly towards heavens, darned uncomfortable to sit on. It’s surprising how many spiny, pointed pebbles a medium sized chunk of rock can hold! So he sits on his little promontory and looks up at the stars. Ancient ones, born at the birth of time and winked out of existence long since, leaving only their light to travel the abysmal dark of the universes. Old ones, still shining defiantly, tough and stubborn. Younger ones, humble beside them, lessons learned and remembered. And blinking into existence, here and there, newer ones: bright, cheeky, so happy just to be there. They are all like dear, old friends to him. He remembers them, strives to learn of those he can’t remember.

So it is there that he sits on his uncomfortable little promontory and looks at the stars and remembers Astrid Peth. Oh, he doesn’t light a candle or make a wreath of flowers to consign to the winds, no. He’s not sentimental that way.

He just sits and looks at the stars and wonders which one would she be flying around that day. Lovely, lovely Astrid Peth with her golden locks and her big blue eyes and that pretty, little smile. Sweet, lonely Astrid Peth from her faraway planet Sto in the Cassavalian belt, with the wish to see the stars in her heart. Astrid Peth, who had stepped on the dirty, cracked concrete of a London street and smelled the stench of the city and jumped with joy because for the first time in her life she was walking on alien soil. The first and the last time. Astrid Peth, who had wanted to come with him into his blue box of a spaceship and face new thrills and old dangers. Astrid Peth, who had kissed him before he set out to face danger just to wish him good luck. Astrid Peth, who had come out of nowhere to help him and save his life. Astrid Peth, who had given her life in order to save the few on board space cruiser Titanic, and the six billion down below on Earth. The six billion who didn’t even have an inkling of her existence.

So it is here, on the bleak, grey rock he sits, looks up at the stars and remembers her. Sometimes he fancies he sees a tiny twinkle of bright, blue stardust up in the sky. But even a time lord’s eyesight can’t help him see so far, so accurately. It seems to vanish the minute he decides to concentrate. So he lets his eyes wander.

And sometimes, sometimes, there is a tiny blue twinkle, just beyond the edge of his vision. Tiny, but there.


End file.
